Where Under The Sheets and You're killing me
by FearxIsXNeverxEnding
Summary: He believes it taught him a lesson to never trust Cato again. To have high and thick walls separate the two greatly. So that no matter how much Cato wanted to be inside Peeta's world, he would never get the chance. Never again. Rated M for Abuse&Rape&Feels.


**This is my first _"The Hunger Games"_ Fanfiction. Peeta Mellark and Cato {WHAT'S HIS LAST NAME} do not belong to me~ I hope that you all enjoy. Don't forget to leave a review on what you think of it! If things don't made sense then message me and I'll clear it out~**

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…_you left a blood stain on the floor…_

…_you set your sights on him…_

Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad.

It wouldn't have been so bad if the walls hadn't had craters in it, moaning loudly in pain, whispering to the people voicelessly who entered what happened just earlier. The voiceless speaking louder then words, that… _couldn't_ seem to flow correctly from his trembling lips. The dark blue marks said "hello" to him every morning, looking at them from his neck to his hips. Making sure that they don't speak out to others, he made sure to always cover it, weather it is with make-up on a hot day, or covering up greatly on a cold day. Even on extremely hot days, piles and piles of clothing would be covering him head to toe.

These were those kinds of days where he sat in the corner of the dark room, shaking, his legs huddled closely to his chest that he was pretty certain that his knees could feel his rapid pulse. His body shook violently, but he was making sure that no waterworks could leak out. He couldn't show it now. He'd be making look like the enemy won. This was his round, a round he was making sure he was going to win no matter what.

He couldn't give in to… _his _satisfaction.

…_you left a handprint on the door…_

…_like all the boys before…_

He could still hear the banging downstairs and he was pretty sure that his next door neighbor was going to call the police. Again. For what he believed to be the 5th time this week. He doesn't understand why the police don't take _it_ away by now. Every time they came by the house, something stopped them from taking the _thing_ downstairs away from him. Something that begged them not to do it and that what the neighbors are saying is false, and that nothing happens. Something that manages to get pity from the cops, letting the _thing_ stay in his house longer.

Suddenly, he didn't need an answer to all those questions. Those questions that lingered heavily in the back of his mind. He knew the reason why.

It was always him that dropped to his knees, tears escaping and begging the cops not to take _it _away. Not to put _it_ behind bars. To tell the neighbors that everything that was told to them was a lie and how they all need to stay out his business. How they all know nothing of what's going on in the house. How sometimes_ it_ would forget to take _its_ medication and lash out, but never on him, he'd either go outside and trash things or be inside screaming. The Cop's suggest for _it_ to be hospitalized, but he'd deny that help to. Saying he can help. Saying he could do this by himself.

But he knows that it's a lie.

He could never dreamed of doing this by himself, but he doesn't want to be alone. He loves so much but gets hated in return. At least, that's what his reasonable side tells him. He tells the blonde that he needs to leave. Leave before something could happen… like, I dunno, _**death.**_

He tells himself all the time that nothing like that will happen to him, but even himself, is no longer so sure. He's been in the hospital many times, bills and dept to prove it.

But something tells him that he can't leave.

Something bigger will happen if he tried.

Fear consumes his heart.

…_this is our luck baby running out…_

…_her clothes were never off…_

Sounds begin to die out downstairs, but the sound of footsteps stomping up the stairs was heard. Quickly, the sound reaches the blonds hiding spot and this is when tears threaten to spill over. Touching the brim of his blue eyes, his hands tighten and ball up into fist, but not to fight, but to help his body move farther back. Deeper into the darkness.

He knew all too well what was going to happen. It always does. No matter what he tried to do, the thing would be too blinded by rage to realize what it was doing. The blonde loses his train of thoughts, hearing the door swing widely. He had to hold back a whimper, hoping that he was blended into the darkness so that the person before him could leave. So that he wouldn't have to endure anymore games that he wanted to play. He could see how the other lighter gray-like eyes stare in the darkness, anger piercing through it. The dirty blond locks clinging onto his forehead due to sweat, his fist balled up tightly, ready to fight.

_"Come out…"_ he whispered in an whispered angry tone, feet taking a step into the room. The male in hiding looked away, his body still shaking. The gray eyes softened slightly, his hands relaxing. A soft tone came out his mouth instead of a harsh one.

"…_Peeta…"_

Don't.

Don't call his name like that. Knowing the said boy would fall for it, every single time, no matter what. One side told him to stay down, hide and don't fall for the calmness. Don't give in to him being sweet.

Just _don't_ give in.

…_we still have hours to run about…_

…_scale them out, scale them out, to get us back on track…_

Another whisper, _"Peeta…" _Another step, another shutter. Another erdge to go out there and hug the man tightly, wanting some sort of reassurance that everything would be alright. But he kept onto that one part in his mind that staying here, being with him, loving him _wasn't healthy, _and that he needed to hide. Hide until it was the perfect chance to run and never look back. His head looked down at his leg, his finger gently tracing the scar on it. Remembering how he got this when he was forced to play another sick twisted game. Remembering how when he disagreed, his was suddenly pinned, screaming in pain as he felt the metal of a knife penetrating deep into his thigh.

This was his round, a round that he was going to make sure not to give into anything the man threw at him. No false kindness. Nothing. He was going to make sure he'd win. No matter how much he wanted to break, he had to keep himself together.

_"…Peeta please…" _came the voice again, sounding as if he was going to break down any minute, _"…Peeta please, help me…"_ With that last broken plea, he dropped to his knees, his wrist covering his face, as he let out tears. Sobbing and crying loudly.

Don't move.

Whatever you do, please just don't move and allow you to stay hidden.

But that sane part that was keeping Peeta hidden was pushed out, getting up, and sliding to his side. His arms wrapped around him tightly, still pushing his own tears. He wasn't planning to drop his guard, even though he was telling the other in his arms that it's okay and making circles with his fingers, trying to sooth him.

Was this a trick?

A trick…?

_"Cato…"_ the young blond whispered, running his fingers through his hair gently, _"Cato… I'll always help you…"_

…_I've seen you in a fight you've lost…_

…_I've seen you in a fight…_

There was once a time when Cato wouldn't threaten to beat Peeta's face in, leave ugly scars both psychically and emotionally. Something triggered Cato and Peeta knows this. There was once a time when Cato was there and swore to kill anyone who hurt Peeta. Remembering those times always made him happy, and it would help him to fall asleep at night. He would curl up, remembering those simple and happier times, where he wouldn't flinch when someone would touch him. Where he wouldn't have to beg Cato to not hurt his friends. When he didn't have to beg Cato to not kill his best friend, Katniss, on the kitchen floor when she made a joke that Peeta would leave Cato for her. Where he wouldn't have to worry if Cato would bruise him again.

Where he didn't have to worry.

But, as stated before, something triggered Cato. Some was triggered to keep Peeta close. Keep Peeta in his reach. Peeta, at first of course, didn't mind this. It was until when Peeta came home late from work, when Cato got psychical. He was accused of cheating. He was accused for being a whore. That's when he was being accused for being out so late for the sole reason that he was sleeping around. Cato had his mindset on that and only that. An argument broke out. Peeta, begging Cato to stop, begs him to stop hitting him.

That's when it happened.

Everything happened so fast, Peeta didn't have time to think; didn't have time to say 'no'. Peeta was suddenly pinned to the sofa, Cato ripping the fabric of his shirt off Peeta's body, forcing his pants down and forcing Peeta to turn around. Peeta's mind only registered pain, pain and so much more pain. Hearing his own strong gasps, his own heavy breathing. Feeling Cato grip onto his hips, tightly, Peeta was sure that it was going to leave a bruise. Feeling Cato thrust in deeply and quickly. The sound of skin on skin and Peeta's loud pleas and cries was mostly the only thing that was heard. Cato grunting could barely be heard.

Finally what seemed like an eternity, Cato finally released his own juices inside of the younger one, grunting lowly but continuing thrusting. Feeling Peeta's body clamp down tightly and then relax, loving that feeling, before just pulling out completely.

_"…maybe that will teach you a lesson…"_

…_where under the sheets and you're killing me…_

…_in our house made of paper your words all over me…_

And teach him a lesson it did. At least he thought it did. He believes it taught him a lesson to never trust Cato again. To have high and thick walls separate the two greatly. So that no matter how much Cato wanted to be inside Peeta's world, he would never get the chance. Never again. But if that was the case, why was Peeta still here? Still allowing Cato to stay, begging the Cops not to take him away? Why was Peeta allowing him to do this? Down to Physical to Sexual abuse? Down to threats? Down to that he can't hang out with his friends? Down to that deep inside he knows that _he can't help Cato change?_

Why hadn't Peeta learned his lesson this_ entire time…?_

…_where under the sheets and you're **killing me…** _

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**Well, this is my first Hunger Games fanfiction and who do I go with what pairing? Cato and Peeta! I've seen my friend write this FF of these two mad gay/romantic and_… stuff_. Like, I always thought like:**

**"_Okay, if they were to ever be in a relationship, wouldn't it be… hella abusive because the type of environment Cato grew up in?" _**

**And well, what do you know? Ellie Goulding's song, _Under The Sheets _is about an abusive relationship! So, I wrote this fanfiction based on that song for these two! I hope you enjoyed it…~ Review~! Thanks~**


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